A Little Bit Of Rebellion
by livesonwisteria
Summary: A Little Bit of Rebellion can go a long way. Harry decides to take the sirius matter into his own hands in the summer before fifth year.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Please vote on my poll, also my story recommendation for this chapter is A Slytherin Black Sheep by Lyta Padfoot.

"And Take That's Back for Good is still number one, with Sweet Child of Mine by Guns and Roses taking second place in the charts," said the newsreader in a rather monotonous voice.

Harry Potter wasn't your average teenager. Lying on his aunts garden underneath the living room window so he might get a snippet of news from 'his world', his head was filled with thoughts of not girls and music but dark lords and spells.

His aunt had forbidden him to watch the news, apart from the fact she didn't want to be disturbed by Harry, she also thought it unnatural for him to be interested in such things, stating that Dudley didn't even know who the prime minister was. This wasn't a great shock to Harry, as Dudley was one of the least intelligent people around. However as a wizard, and the saviour of the wizarding world at that, he was desperate for news of his world, be it bad or good, as he was in isolation with his muggle relatives.

Just as it seemed like there was nothing interesting or worth listening to, and he might be wasting his time lying on the rather uncomfortable ground, a light bulb went off in his head. The news had just given him a very good idea.

Concentrating hard to hear the newsreaders dull voice from the open window, he could just about distinguish the story. It seemed that someone accused of being guilty had gone directly to the police station to prove their innocence. They were successful in doing so.

When listening, his godfather came to mind. Sirius Black was wrongfully accused of betraying his parents, after being framed by Peter Pettigrew and consequently he spent over a decade in Azkaban. Of course, Sirius couldn't go straight to the ministry, if he did then he would most likely be given the Dementors kiss straight away by a Fudge lackey. How they called themselves a government, he really didn't know. In the muggle world they would never let a government be so corrupt.

Noticing his aunt stand up to draw the blinds, he realized the news must be over, indeed, a talk show was starting. As quickly as he could, he got up and out of the flowerbeds before his Aunt saw him in the position he was in. it would only cause unnecessary questions, the answers to which she wouldn't like.

Walking into the house, he hoped to avoid the expected confrontation, yet he didn't. With the normal disgusted look on her face, his aunt said - "What are you doing? Where have you been?"

Harry tried to think of a good explanation. Saying nothing would only prove to make his aunt even madder, and telling the truth would be even worse, no doubt she would think it was unnatural or freakish. Something simple would probably be better; it was always better to not say too much when it came to the Dursleys. "Erm," muttered Harry. "I went to the park." Hopefully that was alright for his Aunt, and she probably couldn't relate it to magic at all.

"Hmm," snorted Aunt Petunia. "Dinner is gong to served in a few minutes, you can wash the dishes up after we've eaten."

"Okay," said Harry admitting defeat and heading up the stairs to his room. He really wasn't in the mood to argue, more the mood to plan.

After washing up, he went back downstairs and sat at the table for a rather awkward meal. After pushing a piece of lasagne around his plate for ten minutes, he stood up and washed the dishes. The Dursleys all got up and left to do their various things, for Dudley, this mainly involved eating a lot of sweets and watching TV for hours on end.

He needed a walk, some time to organise his thoughts and after his aunts screamed protests that he had already been out, and wasn't that enough, he decided there was something wrong with her. She had been a lot more high strung than normal, and he wouldn't put it past a wizard to be behind it, even if they had meant well. A few minutes of walking and contemplating everything followed, from the mundane such as if Hermione and Ron really did have feelings for each other like everyone said, to the life changing like the recent confrontation with Voldemort at the graveyard.

Soon, he found himself at the local park and sat down on a bench, watching some little children play, all the while wishing that his life was as simple as theirs, as carefree.

"You beat him up good, Big D," laughed a voice Harry recognised as Piers Polkiss, one of the teenagers constantly following Dudley around in his little gang. Rolling his eyes inwardly, he wondered what little kid they had been terrorizing today.

Dudley's gang made their way over to Harry, recognising him.

"Yes?" asked Harry in his best sarcastic voice.

"Why's he so weird?" Harry heard a dumb looking kid ask Dudley.

"You don't want to know," replied Dudley with what he thought was a knowledgeable look. Harry had to try incredibly hard not to laugh at this.

"Humph," snorted the boy who had asked Dudley the question, not looking impressed.

"Always has been a freak," added Piers rather unhelpfully, who never had liked Harry, especially since the snake incident at the zoo, just before Harry started Hogwarts.

Harry got up, bored of them and not in the mood to retaliate. Deciding to go back to the Dursleys (he had always thought of Hogwarts as home, ever since he started there), he started to walk back in the twilight.

Glancing behind himself, he saw Dudley a short distance behind. However, he had no chance to say anything, because he was suddenly enveloped with a familiar horribly cold feeling. The feeling of Dementors…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Please vote on the poll on my profile page! Fic recommendation for this chapter is Harry Potter: Unchampion, a great fic by kb0. It involves a lot of humour, and asks what would happen if rebellious Harry decided not to participate in the tournament.

_Glancing behind himself, he saw Dudley a short distance behind. However, he had no chance to say anything, because he was suddenly enveloped with a familiar horribly cold feeling. The feeling of Dementors…_

_  
_Harry let out a gasp. Was this even possible? Dementors were wizarding creatures, dark beings that were supposed to be at Azkaban not Surrey and they were supposed to be controlled by the ministry. The ministry were not only very anti muggle, but also very paranoid and would never let such dangerous being run free, not only was it a very bad idea to have soul sucking creatures free but it would also be disastrous for the statue of secrecy.

Of course it was possible, this was the wizarding where he had learnt that pretty much anything was possible. Life seemed to be throwing a lot of unexpected things at him lately, so he just decided to go with it.

It was at unexpected times like these, he was totally grateful to Professor Lupin for teaching him the Patronus charm. During those lessons he remembered Lupin looking at Harry, his face surprisingly old looking for his years, and saying how much he wished that he never had to use the charm. Nevertheless, Harry couldn't help how much trouble always seemed to find him.

Taking a deep breath, he decided the ministry and their stupid underage laws really didn't matter, not in the face of such war. And if he did get caught, well he'd been meaning to go to the ministry anyway, this way Dumbledore couldn't interfere as Harry had been noticing his deception lately.

His wand was pulled from his sleeve, where had been keeping lately. Many people had told him it simply wasn't safe to have it in the back pocket of his jeans, and it would be disastrous if the brother wand that might destroy Voldemort was snapped when he sat down. As the fake Mad Eye Moody had said, it was always best to have '_Constant Vilegence!'. _Looking straight at the dementor, he realised time was running out as the foul creature was gliding straight towards Dudley, probably yearning for opportunity to suck out his less than innocent soul.

Starting at a sprint, he pointing his wand at the dementor, and focused with all of his magic into the one spell, bringing up a memory of when he had his first real Christmas, at Hogwarts.

"_Expecto Patronum!" Harry bellowed at the dementor, with great effect._

Happiness surged out of him and into a ghost of a stag that formed and charged at the dementor, pushing it away from Dudley, it fled the area. Where to though, Harry wasn't sure. Hopefully back to Azkaban, as the thought of dementors roaming freely around the country wasn't such a good one.

It took barely half a dozen steps to reach Dudley. The sight wasn't pretty – he was curled up in a ball on the cold, hard ground with his arms clamped over his face. He was clearly in shock, and was shaking quite troublingly. The stag hovered over his cousin for one final, fleeting moment before disappearing into the gathering twilight.

The gloomy blanket of sinister darkness that had seemed to engulf the area suddenly dispersed as quickly as it came. Everything sprung back to life. The moon, starts and night sky suddenly seemed that bit brighter even if it was night time. Although Harry had failed to notice it, the light in the street lamps had mysteriously been extinguished with the presence of the dementor, and now light jumped straight back into them. A warm, pleasurable breeze went past Harry, putting a smile upon his face. Little Whinging was back to rights, and the same dull peace that normally lived there was back. Hopefully nothing else would happen like this before Harry could get back to his rightful world.

After a moment of standing still, he realised he was drenched in sweat and his clothes were sticking to him – the charm he had just used was always rather exhausting. His senses were heightened, and he was on the lookout for anything else less than ordinary. Was this just the start, or the was it the end?

Harry bent down to check on his cousin, it wouldn't do to bring him back to Privet Drive in this state. However, he heard footsteps behind him, and channelling Mad Eye, he spun up and round pointing his wand at the intruder – be they friend or foe. To be honest, when he saw the woman approaching him, he was rather confused. Arabella Figg, or Mrs Figg as he had to call her when she had babysat him for longer than he could remember. She lived next to the Dursleys, but wasn't much of a presence in his life. The only times he normally saw her was when the Dursleys were going somewhere for the day, and they always dropped Harry off at Mrs Figgs. To him, she seemed a tad batty with the many cats littering her home – whenever he visited her house, he always had to look at photos of all of her old cats.

However, she wasn't behaving as he had expected her to. For, an ordinary muggle would surely be shocked that Harry was pointing a wand straight in their face.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Fic Recommendation for this chapter is Hogwarts Next Top Witch by WildAngels. Here's the summary - Join Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Cho, and six other witches as they compete to be Hogwarts' Next Top Witch. Parody of America's Next Top Model.

"Hmm," thought Harry. "Why did Mrs Figg not look shocked?"

However, his question was answered when the old lady hissed – "Put your wand away boy. I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher,"

At Harry's blank look, she told him she was a squib. Remembering second year, he realized that Filch was also one, and it was someone born to a pureblooded family without magic. Looking at Mrs. Figg, he felt an instant pang of sympathy for her; he didn't know what he would do without magic.

"Oh yeah," nodded Harry confirming he knew what one was. "So, why are you here?"

"You don't think Dumbledore would let you stay here unprotected?" she gasped, leading both the boys back towards Privet Drive. "There's been a guard set up, rotating and Mundungus Fletcher was on duty tonight, of course though he decided to shirk off his duties like normal. If he hadn't left, the dementors might not have encountered you. Its not natural though, they should be in Azkaban not Little Whinging."

"Yeah, why were the dementors here?" asked Harry, personally he had been quite shocked at their appearance.

"I don't know either, hopefully Dumbledore should have an explanation," said Mrs Figg.

"Hopefully," nodded Harry, as they came to Privet Drive.

Noticing Dudley's silence, Harry was about to say something, but then decided not to as from past experiences he had found it best not to. After all, why go against the experiences of a lifetime on a whim? Now didn't seem the time to break his and Dudley's unspoken pact not to talk to each other unless absolutely necessary. In hindsight, it had been a rather excellent idea.

Walking down the street, something suddenly occurred to Harry. "Mrs Figg?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"All those times the Dursleys dropped me off at your house, why did you never tell me about magic? I could have learned about it much earlier, maybe even got the knight bus to Diagon Alley or something," replied Harry.

"Dumbledore's orders, he thought you were too young and that you should," was Mrs Figg's automatic reply. "The Dursleys would never have let you come if you enjoyed the visits anyway. Hopefully it was a break from them that wasn't too bad."

"No," agreed Harry. "It was definitely better than the Dursleys, nearly anything is. I don't see how I was too young though."

"Neither do I," pointed out Mrs Figg. "For such a renowned wizard, Dumbledore doesn't make a lot of sense sometimes with all of his schemes and plans. It was his idea to leave you with the Dursleys."

"I know," admitted Harry, as a burst of anger raced through him, remembering the time after another confrontation with Voldemort Dumbledore had chosen to tell him that information.

"Oh, that's another thing – how am I going to tell Dumbledore? He'll need to know, and I cant apparate. I doubt that he'll answer the floo right now either," mused Mrs Figg.

Now that's interesting, I never realized that there was a floo right next door to the Dursleys. It will be very useful. Maybe I can sneak out and over to Mrs Figgs once Dudley's back at home. I might even have that emergency floo powder Mrs Weasley gave me a few years back.

"Hmm," said Harry trying to keep his discovery and intentions hidden. "I've got an owl, you can borrow her if you want."

"No, I don't think you understand," said Mrs Figg, sounding stressed about the whole situation. "He needs to be informed as soon as possible, the ministry have certain protocol about this sort of thing. They wont let you off just because you're the boy who lived, infact they might go harder on you with everything the papers have been printing lately. There's all sorts of was that the ministry have of detecting underage magic."

"But it was self defence!" exclaimed Harry, before realizing that he really should have expected this from the corrupt ministry. "A dementor was about to feast on Dudley's soul, I couldn't just leave him there!"

"Yes, yes dear I know," said Mrs Figg in what she hoped was a calming voice. "It doesn't always work the way it should though."

Pausing, she muttered something about killing Mundungus Fletcher with her bare hands. As if on cue, there was a loud crack and the air was instantly filled with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes, and a scruffy looking man materialized.

"'Sup Figgy?" asked the man, looking from Mrs Figg to Dudley to Harry, confusion clearly etched upon his face. Something told Harry that it was an expression Mundungus Fletcher often wore. "What happened to staying undercover?"

Mrs Figg's face went from calm to shocked to furious in a matter of nanoseconds. "Undercover?!" she spluttered. "I'll give _you_ undercover! Dementors! Here! Where were you during all of this?"

"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus, confused as ever. "Here?"

"Yes, you fool, and on your watch as well!"

Turning her attentions to something worth it, Mrs Figg addressed Harry this time, ignoring Mundungus – "I'll walk you to the door, just incase. If you need anything urgently, you can always ask me."

"Urm, thanks," said Harry, knocking on the door and telling her goodnight as she walked off. It was faded, but he could still hear Mundungus being chastised by Mrs Figg.

"About time too!" exclaimed Aunt Petunia in her high voice that annoyed him so much. Her expression rapidly changed when she saw the state of Dudley, turning her glare to Harry.

"You! You've been turning my son to drugs!" exclaimed Aunt Petunia.

Harry had to stifle a snort of laughter at this, it was one of the least likely explanations ever, he wouldn't even know where to get drugs from, but as usual he was being blamed.

"No-" Harry started to explain before Aunt Petunia interrupted him.

"If you must talk, do it inside – I don't want you making the heating bill go up anymore," said Aunt Petunia icily, although Harry had to concede, it was a fair point.

She ushered them in, pointed Dudley to the living room and then stood there expectedly looking at Harry, hand on hip.

"I don't know what's happened to Dudley, but I know something has. I know its probably your fault as well. Tell me what you know now!"

By this point, Uncle Vernon had joined them in the hall, and he didn't look pleased at all – "Well, boy, what have you been doing now?"

"I didn't do anything," said Harry indignantly, wishing that, for once, they would be on his side. "It was a dementor, they guard the wizarding prison."

Uncle Vernon visibly stiffened, as he always did when Harry mention anything about magic, but, he thankfully didn't say anything about it.

Also, a flash of fear crossed Aunt Petunia's face for some reason Harry wasn't quite sure of. His aunt had lived with a witch for her childhood, the soul sucking creatures must have been mentioned at some point. Oh dear, now Aunt Petunia might understand the magnitude of what had nearly happened.

"Well, I don't know why their here, but one attacked Dudley and I used a spell to get it to go away," said Harry.

"Hmmm," said Aunt Petunia. "I thought you weren't supposed to use magic outside of that school of yours."

"Well, I couldn't really help it," pointed out Harry.

Uncle Vernon was unnaturally quiet, and Harry was concerned. It seemed as if this would be just the time for him to come up with one of his customary explanations that lacked any logic.

"So, these dementor things, why were they here?" asked Uncle Vernon slowly.

"That's just the thing, I don't know," said Harry, trying not to seem condescending.

"Wait a minute," said Uncle Vernon, false realization dawning on him. "These dementor things, I bet they were here because you were!"

"No-" Harry started to explain, but was once more interrupted.

"It might be, Vernon, I've heard these creatures can go after freaks,"

"If he stays here, then he'll be a danger to Dudley and to us," said Uncle Vernon.

A look of understanding passed between the two, and a silent agreement was made, with Aunt Petunia verbalising it – "We want you out, you've got two minutes. Get your stuff,"

To their shock, Harry replied with one word – "Okay,"

Then, he grabbed his trunk and headed over the road to Mrs Figgs house, slamming the door behind him and trying not to giggle, things were going perfectly. Behind him, he saw the telltale red of a howler floating over to Privet Drive as well as an official looking letter…


End file.
